Loathing

Every achievement,
great or small,
whether remembered
or anticipated,
can become a wobbly crutch,
and if leaned upon too heavily,
will suck all the meat and marrow
of real life
from our fragile bones.

I was sitting outside yesterday
May 2nd
on our new patio furniture
trying to decide whether I should
smoke my pipe
or try to go to bed early,
while fending off about 15 other thoughts
banging on my subconscious
about the next big achievements
of the next 9 months.

My thoughts spiraled off towards spring
and new life,
and then.........

I don't know if the air shifted
or a twig snapped
or what,
but my mind stopped.
The present was upon me.
I noticed that my left leg was
shaking spastically,
my stomach was clinched,
and I was grinding my teeth.

I slouched in my chair,
aware
of my chest and stomach rising slowly together,
and my skin
breathing in
all 74 degrees in the air.

Just then a giant turkey buzzard
as deformed
as death-rot
took flight from a branch just above my head
and glared back at me
with loathing.

Coincidence?
I think not.